


Forever is a Long Time, But I Wouldn't Mind Spending it by Your Side

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Backstory, Fic Collection, Fluff, LAFLAMS GUYS, Laflams, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Probably some angst at some point, Smut, implied sex, posting schedule, what posting schedule
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-11 03:15:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12926160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Title from "I Wouldn't Mind" by He is We.One shots and ficlets concerning Laflams in the Modern AU.Requests are open! (I have the right to deny any request I am not comfortable with writing!)





	1. With You, I'm a Beautiful Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Sad Song" by We the Kings.  
> John Laurens thinks about his relationship with Alex and Lafayette.

When John Laurens looks at Lafayette, his breath still hitches at the beauty and the soft smile and the warm hands and the heart too big for his body. 

When John Laurens looks at Alex, his heart still melts at the confident attitude, the sharp edges, the readiness to up and go, and the gruff caring that he will never admit exists.

When John Laurens is held in Lafayette's strong arms, he feels safe and protected, surrounded by love.

When John Laurens is kissed by Alex, he crashes into the passion and devotion that Alex conveys with every move.

When John Laurens is found huddling in a corner by Lafayette, tears streaming down his face as he is consumed by a flashback, Lafayette simply holds him and talks to him and John eventually relaxes, brought back by the tenderness.

When John Laurens feels like he can't breathe anymore, like he can't live anymore, Alex finds him and talks to him and helps him through.

When John Laurens sees Lafayette laugh, his breath is still swept away at the strength of his cheerfulness and its ability to infect John.

When John Laurens sees Alex talk, it's like watching a racer run towards the finish line with everything he's got; passion, and the desire to make others see what he can do.

When John Laurens thinks about how much he loves both of them, he can't fathom himself and how he has done enough to deserve their love back.


	2. It's Better to Feel Pain Than Nothing at All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette's backstory (shortened). Title from "Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers. Trigger Warnings: depression, blood, alcoholism, implied sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *PLZ READ FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS* Title from "Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers. Trigger Warnings: depression, blood, alcoholism, implied sex

Before Alex, Lafayette’s life was a loop. 

Before John, Lafayette had little to live for. 

Most of his days he would end up in a bar, and after that, either get kicked out with a bruised face and bloody body, or ripping clothes off another man as they wrestled in bed, desperate and lonely and wanting. 

He had sunken into depression, although he had not known it. He had quit his job and hadn’t bothered looking for a new one. Didn’t need one, anyways. Had tons of money from his deceased parents. He found little pleasure in anything except drinking, fighting, and sex. 

Not the healthiest lifestyle. 

Lafayette still remembers the night before his life had changed forever. He was only on his second drink that night, but already feeling frisky and needy. He had sidled up to nearly every man in the bar, finally finding luck with a muscular Hispanic with a tight white tank top, ripped jeans, and a gold necklace. They made out in the corner of the bar, grinding lazily until the man paid for a room and dragged Lafayette upstairs. 

Lafayette’s clothes went first, falling to the floor as their kisses gained heat and his hair was pulled out of its usual tight ponytail. Heat pooled in his groin as he pulled off the stranger’s shirt and started unbuttoning his pants, letting his fingers brush over the bulge growing there. 

The night passed swiftly after that. They fucked hard and quick, the man thrusting into Lafayette at a breakneck pace. Moans echoed off the walls as Lafayette touched himself, closing his eyes and wishing, just for that moment, that it wasn’t just some random stranger pounding into him, that it was a romantic lover that wanted him, that wanted to make love to him. 

His orgasm took over and his thoughts left him for a few moments. The best moments. Moments when he didn’t have to sink lower in his crippling thoughts and anger and depression. It was those moments that Lafayette lived for. 

The man grabbed his clothes. Left. Lafayette clutched the sheets close to his chest, shivering now that the heat of the night was over. He was too tired to get his clothes back on, so he stayed in the unfamiliar bed, letting unshed tears sting his eyes and clench his throat. 

He hated himself. He hated this. He hated that he needed this. Hated that he couldn’t stop. Hated that he needed the drinks, needed the sex, because nothing else could keep him going. Nothing else could stop him from grabbing a knife and just ending it. 

Lafayette let out a strangled sob and cried himself to sleep. 

—

The next day was exactly the same as the last. 

Or so Laf thought. 

He left the bar, probably forgetting his belt or something. He crossed the road without looking both ways and made it safely to the other side, much to his regret. A headache pounded dully behind his eyes, and while it wasn’t not the worst hangover he’d ever had, he decided a cup of coffee couldn’t do any harm. He stumbled into a coffee shop and ordered the cheapest drink they had. Plopped down in a chair. Sipped his coffee slowly. 

“Hey there. I’m Alexander Hamilton. What’s your name?”

Lafayette looked up to see a beautiful young man looking down at him, dark hair pulled into a short ponytail, notepad tucked underneath his arm, pencil held in place by his ear. 

“Um—“ it came out as a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Lafayette. My name is Lafayette.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Er— non, no, not at all.”

Lafayette doesn’t know what made Hamilton sit down next to him all those years ago, but whatever it was, he thanks his lucky stars for it. Now that they’re in love, now that they’re boyfriends. 

They had talked about little things of no importance, chatting the day away as Lafayette slowly fell for the immigrant who seemed so passionate about everything, as Alexander fell for the quiet Frenchman who seemed reserved and bright. 

“—and then John, my boyfriend, was like—“

“You have a boyfriend?” Lafayette cut him off, heart crashing. For the first time since his parents had died, Lafayette was starting to feel happy. Not like the ecstasy that comes from getting off or the floaty feeling of drunkenness, but genuine happiness that he slowly realized stemmed from affection. He instantly controlled his emotions, reining them in and reprimanding himself for allowing his heart to feel, for letting himself start to become fond of a man he had only known for a few hours. 

“Oh yeah, he’s great. You would love him! He’s really— hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh—“ Lafayette stammered, wondering how Hamilton had read his expression so well. “I just remembered— I have somewhere to be. I’m sorry, Alexander. I have enjoyed talking to you.”

And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he jotted down his cell phone number and handed it to Alex. “In case you ever want to talk again.”

“Yeah, any time. Here’s mine.” Alex gave his number. Lafayette smiled and took it. 

And then he was gone. 

Lafayette knew he was being childish. He knew it wasn’t very grown up of him to sulk away as soon as he found out Alex was taken. Still. It had happened. His brief moment of happiness was over, and now he was back to square one, feeling the crushing hopelessness, the feeling of drowning in nothing and everything. 

When he got back to his large, fancy apartment that he knew he didn’t deserve, he collapsed on the bed and didn’t cry. He wanted to. He wanted to feel the short-lived relief after shedding tears, but none came. Just dry, unfeeling, emptiness. 

It was the emptiness, the hopelessness, the loneliness that hurt the most. 

—

The next day, Lafayette met John. 

It was an accident, really. 

He was at a bar for the umpteenth time. He was drunk. Completely wasted. Looking for a fight. Found one. Got his ass kicked. Got thrown out. 

Lafayette swore when the cut on his head wouldn’t stop bleeding. The world was tilting around him, and not just from the alcohol. He swore louder as he clutched at the brick wall, fighting the urge to vomit all over the dark alleyway. 

He grabbed his phone and punched in the first number that came to mind. The number he had memorized after looking at the small slip of paper for hours. 

The phone rang. Rang. Rang. 

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Alex?” Lafayette slurred. “That you?”

“Sorry, who is this?”

“Lafayette. Is Alex there?”

“Oh, he’s talked about you. He’s not here right now, sorry. Had to answer his phone for him while he’s in the shower. How can I help you?”

“Um… fuck,” he mumbled as the world tilts again and he fell to his knees, phone clattering out of his palm. 

“Lafayette? You okay?”

“No,” Lafayette grunted back, pressing harder at the gash in his forehead with his shirt. “Bleeding— need help—“

“Wha— Okay— can you tell me where you are?”

Lafayette told him. John promised to be there as soon as possible and then hung up. 

Lafayette honestly didn’t think he was going to make it. He had grown so weak that his hand had fallen to his side as he slumped against the wall. Blood dripped into his eyes, stinging them and clouding his vision. He could practically feel his heartbeat growing weaker. Half of him wished John would hurry up. The other half wished he would never come. Just let him die here. 

When John did show up, Lafayette was not awake to see it. 

—

Alex and John were both there when he woke up, standing over his hospital bed with knit eyebrows and frowns. 

“Hnn..” Lafayette managed, drawing relieved expressions from the men’s faces. 

“How you feelin’?” Alex inquired softly. 

“Like shit,” Lafayette replied after a moment's consideration. They all smiled wearily. 

—

Lafayette was genuinely confused he was released from the hospital and Alex and John brought him to their home. He protested, saying he barely knew them, that they shouldn’t worry themselves over him. They had just laughed, said it was fine. “No biggie” he believed were their exact words. 

Still. He absolutely would not let them pay the hospital bills. Blushingly told them he could afford it and ushered them down. 

He stayed the night there. 

And the next. 

And the next. 

He didn’t mean to. Not really. It just felt so good, so normal, not craving anything, just feeling whole and wanted. Not needing drinks and fights and fucking. 

He didn’t realize he loved them. Not for a while. When he did, he kept quiet about it, not sure that they would give him the love back. Not ready to be broken-hearted again. 

But when they did all admit their love, it was the best day of Lafayette’s life. They touched each other slow and lovingly that night, taking to each other like fish to water. 

Lafayette has never felt so good as he fucked John into the mattress that night, as Alex sucked his cock, as they collapsed onto the cool sheets. No matter how many times he had done this, when it happened with someone he loved, it made all the difference. 

After that, John and Alex had invited Lafayette to live with them. Lafayette refused and instead invited them them to live at his luxurious apartment. At first, they had declined, but after some wheedling and coaxing, they agreed. 

And now, Lafayette couldn’t be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will do John's and Alex's backstories if requested. Please comment/review/leave kudos! Thanks for reading! the-first-refrain is my tumblr, come say hi.


	3. Seriously?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night with Laflams.

“Alright,” said John, spreading out several DVDs on the couch, “so after 23 sessions of voting, we are left with Avengers: Age of Ultron, The Fault in Our Stars, and Zootopia.”

“Not The Fault in Our Stars,” Lafayette groaned. “Please? I am not the mood to cry tonight.”

“But it’s such a good movie!” John argued, but Alex shook his head. 

“Nah, I agree with Laf. Let’s watch Age of Ultron,” he suggested. 

“I am okay with that,” Lafayette agreed with a shrug. 

“I think you guys are clearly forgetting that we have Zootopia,” John said, “because that movie is amazing and I think we should watch it tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Zootopia? Seriously? That movie was made for like, 5-year-olds.”

John looked offended. “Excusez moi?” He said in a horrible French accent that made Lafayette cringe. “Zootopia is amazing, thank you very much. And no, it’s made for a general audience. Some could say that Harry Potter is a children’s series, but you still aggressively defend it.”

“That’s because Harry Potter is the best series ever! It never gets old!” Alex replied defensively. 

“Well, neither does Zootopia,” John said sniffily. 

“Mom amours,” Lafayette cut in, a look of amusement on his face. “Let us watch Zootopia. I don’t believe Alexander has seen it before anyways.”

“But… Age of Ultron…” Alex whined as John dragged him onto the couch and put the DVD in. 

“Okay, that is adorable,” Alex said when the movie started and Judy put on her play. “A bunny wanting to be a cop?”

“Sh,” John hushed him. 

The movie played through, and at the end, Alex sat with a sort of dumbstruck look on his face. 

“So?” John prompted. 

“That was… actually great,” Alex said with a grin. 

“See?” said John triumphantly. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Nick and Judy are cute together, no?” Lafayette remarked. 

“What?” Alex wrinkled his nose. “How is that even possible? A rabbit and a fox together?” A look of horror passed over his face suddenly. “What would their children look like?”

“Mon amour,” Lafayette giggled. “It is all hypothetical. Zootopia’s not real, obviously.”

“I know,” Alex sighed. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Is it just me, or is anyone else really gay for those tigers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is quite a bit shorter, sorry. I’ve gotten a request for more backstories, so i will start working on that as soon as possible! Thanks for reading and plz comment!


	4. In Walked Luck and You Looked in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s (and sort of Alex’s) backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from “Golden Years” by David Bowie.   
> Sooooo I got lazy and kinda mashed up Alex and john’s backstories, but don’t worry, I might still do a deeper one about Alex. Lafayette is my favorite character and he’s not in this one so I had a little more difficulty writing it because it wasn’t as fun for me. I’m not completely satisfied with it but I hope you enjoy.

Putting the homophobic asshole aside, John Laurens loved his father. Really, he did. They had their differences (understatement of the year) but John loved him, and he loved John back. 

John tried very hard to remember this as, yet again, his father yelled at him about his “disgusting habits” and John screamed back about his father’s prejudice and unfairness. 

“If you would just LISTEN—“ John tried, yet again, to convince his father into hearing him out. 

“I have listened!” Henry Laurens snarled back. “Every day, it’s the same! About how gay people are ‘oppressed’ and how it’s ‘not their choice’—“

“It’s not!” John snapped. 

“BUT I’VE HAD ENOUGH!” Henry roared. “Enough, you hear me?? Every month you seem to have another boyfriend—“ he paused, as though the thought were too painful to bear, “—why not just stick with one, eh? You say how much you really love each other, how it’s ‘real love’ and how gay love is no different and all that, but if that’s true, why aren’t you staying with any of these people, huh?” He fixed John with a beady glare. “Is it really love? Or just lust and temptations of the flesh?”

John opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it. The truth was, Henry was unknowingly, painfully stepping on one of John’s biggest insecurities: that none of his boyfriends had ever loved him. John had tried his best to be a good boyfriend, but somehow, every one of his relationships had crashed and burned. 

“I’m tired,” Henry said finally, rubbing his forehead wearily. “I’m calling in.”

John didn’t say anything, just nodded mutely. The next morning, he packed and left the house. Flew silently back to New York on an airplane, his father’s words laying heavy on his back. 

With an exhausted sigh, John stumbled back to his flat. He unlocked the door and just stood in the doorway for a few moments, looking around the dark room. Nothing had changed since he had left; his favorite shirt was still laying on the couch, an old popcorn bag lay crumpled next to the trash can, his stuffed turtle dropped on the counter (a last minute decision to not take it with him to South Carolina). 

Welcome home, John thought, before collapsing on the couch and falling asleep. 

—

Everything was falling apart. Everything was failing. John was falling apart. John was failing. Maybe he could catch his broken pieces if he could just calm down for a second—

But no, his thoughts were speeding too fast for him to calm down, and his heart was thumping so loud he was sure the whole world could hear. He dug his fingernails into his palms and swore loudly, trying desperately to ground himself, trying to pull himself out—

“Hey— woah, you alright?”

John didn’t even look to see who it was. He didn’t care who it was. “No—“ he choked out. (Where was he? He hadn’t a clue...) “Help...”

“H-hey, it’s gonna be alright, ‘kay? You’re gonna be fine— come here—“

And then he felt warm arms around him, gathering him into somebody’s chest, and he felt secure, he felt safer, he felt— definitely not okay, of course not— but at least better. 

“Just come with me, it’ll be okay—“

But suddenly John jerked away, startle day back into reality. “I— I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t even... know you,” he finished, suddenly breathless at the sight in front of him. 

The man was about 21 years old, with long, silky black hair tied back into a short, messy ponytail. He had honey-golden skin with wide, dark eyes and an honestly hideous brown sweatshirt on. It didn’t matter, though, because this man was beautiful anyways. 

“I’m Alexander Hamilton,” the man clarified, jerking John back to reality. “But you can call me Alex.”

“John Laurens,” John muttered. “Good to— good to meet you.”

“You too,” said Alex, eying John somewhat skeptically. “Look, you don’t look very good—“

John was offended (and somewhat disappointed) for a moment before he realized Alex was referring to his panic attack, not his face. “I— I’ll be okay,” he said shakily, starting to calm down down. Breathe, he reminded himself. 

“You sure?” Alex remained looking concerned. “Because my place isn’t too far from here, you could crash for the night or until you feel better—“

“No, no,” John replied hastily, blushing at the thought. “I— no, God, of course not—“

“Oh,” said Alex, looking, John thought, faintly disappointed. “Well— if you’re sure—“

“Yeah,” John replied, unable to take his eyes of Alex’s face. “Yeah, I’ll be okay—“

“Glad to hear it.” Alex smiled and John’s heart skipped a beat. “See you ‘round, I guess.”

“Yeah,” John said lamely. 

Alex hesitated a moment before pulling out pen writing down his number on John’s arm. “Just in case you ever need anything.”

“Th-Thanks,” John stammered, and then Alex was gone. 

—

“Wow,” Alex said aloud to his empty apartment room. “What. A. Failure.”

Walk up to a guy who’s having a panic attack, and the first thing Alex does is think how hot he looks. Alex snorted and shook his head in disgust. Classy. And then he gave him his phone number! As if John would want it! Probably had a hot date already, what with the hazel eyes and the gorgeous tan skin and the adorable freckles...

Alex sighed and crashed into his bed, brushing off an empty coffee cup and a few crumbs from last night’s leftover pizza. He sighed again and flipped on the TV, and tried to engross himself in an episode of Marvel’s Runaways before giving up. He couldn’t stop thinking about John Laurens. Which, he thought, wasn’t necessarily a horrible thing. If it kept his mind off of what usually occupied it, then it must not be too bad. A brief image of lightning and frightened faces and his angry father and his sick mother and darkness flashed through his head, but Alex gritted his teeth and thought about John again, and soon it faded. 

He was just thinking about maybe trying to count John’s freckles one day when his phone rang. Startled to find an unidentified caller, he answered. “Hello?”

“H-hey, Alex,” a now-familiar voice stammered. “I didn’t get the chance to ask— sorry if this seems weird— if you want to go to dinner with me?”

Alex opened and closed his mouth, stunned into silence. John… liked him? He liked him back?

“Hello?” John asked, sounding nervous. 

“I— yeah, I’d love to!” Alex replied, breaking into a grin. 

“Oh! Great!” John laughed, sounding relieved. “Um, tomorrow night good? At Frida and Freddy?”

“Sure!” Alex agreed. “See you then!”

 

After that, things just fell into place. Alex loved John just as much as John loved Alex, and it wasn’t long before they were moving in together in a small but cozy flat. John had never been this happy before, and no boyfriend had ever stayed with him this long. Alex was able to relax and be happy around someone he truly loved, and didn’t think he could ever be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peacock_francophile is now my tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! the-first-refrain is my tumblr, come check me out!


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